Slash Actually
by Valerie Gossamer-McNugget
Summary: Harry finds himself in a disintegrating world of homoeroticism...and begins to enjoy it. HarrySeamus and many, many others. Better summary and lots and lots of warnings inside...
1. Prologue

_!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING! _

_Slash, femslash, bad language, OOC, Ginny bashing, Dumbledore bashing, Dumbledore un-bashing, NO Voldemort (he was only going to get in the way of the sexiness), warm-buttery-toast style contented fluffiness, homophobic nearly everyone, general stupidity, parody, out-of-order warnings…and probably some other stuff I can't remember. Anyway, don't like, don't read. _

_!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING!WARNING! _

**Summary: **Something goes terribly wrong for Harry, but he finds someone to help with the pain. Lots of random hilarity ensues, and a lot of sex. And a purple turtle.

**Pairings** OMG where to begin…right, Peeves/Myrtle, Pansy/Hermione, Draco/Seamus, Harry/Ron, Sirius/Remus, Remus/Sirius, Lucius/Severus, Sirius/Severus/Remus, Pansy/Tonks, Harry/Ron/Seamus/Draco, Hermione/Luna, Minerva/Rita, Luna/Hermione/Narcissa/Fleur/Bellatrix/Parvati/Padma/Lavender/Hannah/Cho (I really don't like lesbians that much, but I've been told to write it so I will), **Harry/Seamus **and that's about it. But I'll probably change my mind and add a few more later.

**Author's Preamble:**Well, here goes nothing...my first fic! Woo go me! Anyway, this story came from...somewhere...one day and wouldn't go away until I wrote it. So I did. My beta and best friend Kezzy (LOVE YOU HUN!) thought it was quite good, so I decided to post it. I hope you enjoy the perverted slashy fruits of my brain!

**Slash Actually**

**Prologue**

Harry didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't think. He just knew he needed to get away. He ran to his room, and grabbed his broom. He ran at one of the windows, which sensed his rage, instantly made itself big enough for him to fly out of. Without the slightest waver in his pace, he mounted his broom and took flight.

The cold winter air chilled his fury-heated skin. His robes whirled about him menacingly. As he flew, he felt himself becoming calmer, more rational.

Slowly, he began to replay the day's events in his mind…

FLASHBACK

_**Dark Lord Finally Defeated**_

_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-But-Probably-Can-Be-Now-He's-Dead-So-What-The-Heck-Voldemort was found dead in his hiding place in Eastbourne early this morning. A spokesperson for the family of the deceased had this statement for the press:_

"_Lord Voldemort was found dead this morning in his home. Whilst the cause of death has yet to be confirmed, it is believed to be related to the cement mixer in which he was found. Demolition experts are currently working to extract his corpse from the cement."_

_The Former Dark Lord was attempting to build a wall for his wife of three months, Beryl Dark Lord. Beryl was too distraught to comment this morning, but by lunchtime she was over it and had this to say:_

"_Yeah, like, on reflection, I think it's like probably for the best. Yeah, I did love him, but, ya know, what with him being the most evil thing ever, like, I think he deserves to be like dead like."_

_Beryl, 97, is set to inherit the entire Voldemort estate…"_

Harry sat back in shock. It was supposed to be his job! He was supposed to be the one to kill Voldemort!

Decidedly pissed off, he stormed down to the common room to find Ron and Hermione.

"Gosh, Harry, you look decidedly pissed off!" the ever-perceptive Hermione commented.

Ron grunted and stared dumbly into the fire. Ever since his…err…accident last year, he had had the IQ of an amoeba. He was effectively dead to the world, kept alive only by Hermione's love and constant healing spells.

"I AM!" Harry shouted. He explained the situation.

"Hmm…I see…" Hermione murmured, gazing pensively at Ron.

"Hermione…" Harry said, backing away slightly. "You've got your evil-genius-planning-something-evilly-evil face on…"

"We could…could…_could_…make it look like the 'accident' was really all your doing, Harry. Then you'd get all the glory and cheesecake that would go with killing Voldemort, without any of the hard work…"

Harry took a moment to take this in, ignoring Ron, who'd started jumping around the room at the mention of cheesecake. It did seem like a good idea…

Just then, a head popped into the fireplace. It was our good friend, Old Dumbly himself, Professor Albus Dumbledore, Order of yada yada yada, etc.

"Harry, could I see you for a minute in my office please? There's something important I need to discuss with you…

Flashback interference caused by the start of a storm in the real world

"WHAT!" Harry was speechless.

Dumbledore looked at him seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses.

"You mean you've been lying to me all this time! I can't believe you'd do this to me! I _trusted_ you!"

Without another word, he ran from the Head Teacher's office.

END FLASHBACK

Yes, it had been an eventful day. And now it was raining. _Brilliant._ He thought. _Bloody brilliant._ Harry was still fuming over what Dumbledore had told him. He had trusted him like a father, and he had been lying to him this whole time…

It had begun to rain very heavily now. Harry flew higher and faster, trying desperately not to think. He needed not to think.

Whilst he was concentrating really hard on not thinking, he didn't notice that his broom was becoming slipperier and slipperier. He slowly began to loose his grip…

He was falling. _Damn,_ he thought. _Just when my day couldn't get any worse, now I go and fall of my broom from a great height. I'M FALLING FROM A GREAT HEIGHT!_

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK" Harry screamed. This was definitely not good.

"_Retardo Fallingus_" he heard a deep voice called from the ground. Suddenly, he felt like he was falling in slow motion. He still had a few hundred feet to fall; he was falling slowly; WOO he was flying!

He began pratting around, pretending he was swimming, crossing he legs and reclining into an imaginary easy chair. He began to really enjoy himself, forgetting that days troubles. All too soon he was on the rain-soaked ground.

A tall, heavy-set figure loomed over him, silhouetted by a crack of lightening. _Ohhhh fuck._


	2. Chapter 1 In The Closet

**(Slightly Late) Disclaimer: **Whoops, my bad…uh, yeah, I don't live in an underground hole, I don't scream every time I see toast, I don't do a lot of things. I especially don't own Harry Potter. Nor will I own Harry Potter for the duration of this or any other story. Happy now?

**Slash Actually**

**Chapter 1 – _In The Closet_**

Harry awoke in the dark to an extremely painful neck. He shifted his head around until he heard something click, then reached for his wand. "_Lumos_" he muttered. A beam of light shot from the end of his wand, bounced off the wall a foot in front of him and sprang back into Harry's eyes.

Cringing away from the dazzling light, his head knocked against something soft and he dropped his wand, which went out, plunging him back into darkness. The something soft jolted, pulled away and emitted the sort of shocked noise a cat makes when you kick it (**A.N.** not that I've tried…).

"What, what, what, I'm awake!"

Harry knew that voice…then memories of yesterday began to flood back to him. That voice…that voice had saved him…

"Erm, hi…"

"Who…what…how? Oh, erm, yeah…"

Harry was now completely confused. He was in a very confined space with an Irish-sounding person who'd saved his life. It was obvious from the numerous cramps and aches he was suffering from that they'd been here quite a while.

"You saved my life." Harry said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, you could say that…"

"Thanks…erm, why are we in such a cramped and dark place?"

"Because we're in a cupboard."

Whilst this seemed perfectly reasonable to Harry, he didn't really want to stay much longer. After a few seconds silence, he said:

"Would you mind if we got out of the cupboard?"

"Yes."

A few more seconds silence.

"Why?"

"Because everyone hates me…" was his mournful response.

"You saved my life! I don't hate you."

"You would if you knew…" The boys fell silent again. Harry's mind raced. _What reason could everyone have to hate him? He seems nice enough…but then he saved my life, I suppose I'm a bit biased…I should probably ask him why everybody hates him…_

Obeying his subconscious, Harry asked him.

"Trust me, you'd hate me if you knew. That's why I'm not going to tell you."

"Is it because you made them all sleep in cupboards?"

The boy let out a deep chuckle. "If you're that uncomfortable, you can leave…like everyone else did…" He howled and started sobbing violently.

"Hey, hey, it can't be that bad…and I'm not leaving until I know your name"

Sniffing, he said "Don't you recognise my charming Irish brogue, Harry? It's Seamus"

"Oh, hi…well…see you later…" Harry pushed around him and found the door. He pushed it open, and crawled out, still too stiff to stand up properly. "And Seamus. I will found out what's wrong."

"I wouldn't count on it. Goodbye, Harry."

Harry stood up and walked stiffly for a few paces before realising he had no idea where he was. He didn't recognise the corridor he was in; he didn't care. He was too confused to care.

He turned 180º for no reason other that to give him something to do, and started walking briskly. Thoughts were flitting through his head. _Why does everyone hate Seamus all of a sudden? Why was he out in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain last night? Was it last night? What time is it? What about Seamus again? Why couldn't he get him out of his…_"Ooof"

"What…oh, sorry Professor." He had walked straight into Professor Flitwick, sending him flying halfway along the corridor.

"You look like you've got a lot on your mind, Mr. Potter. Is there anything I can do to help?" Flitwick twittered spiritedly.

"Not really, Professor…Actually, you can tell me where I am."

"I wish I could, Harry. I've been fluttering about these corridors for days, now. I can't see high enough to see where I am, and since no-one cares about me since they got that flashy new charms-teaching robot that replaced me, no-one's been bothered to look for me, so I'm very lost."

Harry backed away, scared. He jumped over the tiny Professor, and ran as fast as he could, leaving a twittering, fluttering Flitwick spinning happily on his head.

Harry stopped running as he rounded the corner. He walked for about half an hour before he recognised anything. Even when he knew where he was, he carried on walking. He had too much to think about to stop now…


	3. Chapter 2 Pole Dancing Party Party 1

**Slash Actually**

**Chapter 2 – _Pole Dancing Party (Part(y) 1)_**

A few days passed in quiet, _unmentionably_ boring nothingness. Harry was busy working and training and studying and doing other things that people do when they want to stop themselves thinking. He decided that not thinking was best right now.

Having just finished all the school work he would ever have to do ever (**A.N.** do you like how I get all the boring things out of the way so smoothly?), Harry began to panic. He would have to start thinking now!

Conveniently, Dumbles chose that exact moment to come in for his 293rd apology attempt that afternoon. In a desperate attempt to stop himself thinking, Harry decided to listen to him…

Dumbly looked a mess. Ever since Harry had started hating him, he had let himself go completely to pot. His hair hadn't been washed at all, and had frizzed so it stuck out like an enormous white afro. He had taken to doing nothing but try to apologise between eating vast amounts of chocolate spread toasted sandwiches (**A.N. **try them they are SOOO good). This vast quantity of calories had meant that the headmaster's usually ripped, buff physique had ballooned to something resembling a small whale. He rolled up to Harry and began burbling an incoherent apology…

"Harbly, in the interests of the good of the thingy of the umiverse, I really can't aplologise enough. I really can't because I am so very very very very sorry and…"

Harbly held up a hand to cut him off.

"Accepted." He said curtly.

"WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" cried Dumblewumbles joyously, instantly returning to his old self. Clapping his hands together, he pulled a bag of floo powder out of one of Hagrid's pockets (**A.N.** am I the only one who still remembers Hagrid's pockets?), poured some out and snorted a line off the desk Harbly was sat at. Straightening up, he clapped his hands together again, turned to Hagrid (who had been steering the rolling headmaster on his way to his apology) and said…

"Hagrid, tell the whole school Harry's forgiven me! This is such a joyous occasion it calls for the revival of one of the schools least well known traditions…"

"You carn mean…Pr'ff's'r D'm'b'l'd'r, s'rly n'…"

"Yes, Hagrid. POLE DANCING PARTY IN THE GREAT HALL!"

Later that evening, everyone filed into the great hall, which had been enchanted to look like a sleazy back-alley working men's club. The benches and tables had disappeared, and podiums had been erected at various intervals, with silver poles stretching to the ceiling. The students had all come in costumes befitting the setting; all of them dressed as sleazy back-alley working men with '70s porn-star moustaches and flat caps. The teachers were nowhere to be seen…

When the entire student body was assembled, an ancient PA system groaned and whirred into life and a loud snorting was heard, followed by a sigh.

"What was that?" professional nosey-parker Hermione nosey-parked.

"Dumblemumblewumble is hooked on floo powder."

"Woof." Replied Ron.

"Ladies and gentlemen, madames et monsieurs, students and…male students, your host for the evening…Professor Albusina Fumblewhore!"

A Perspex platform stiletto stuck itself out from behind a red velvet curtain. It was soon joined by Dumbledore, dressed in a hot pink salsa dress, the other Perspex platform stiletto and a rather natty Carmen Miranda hat.

"Did he just introduce himself in drag?" Harry mused.

"Yes."

Ron, who hadn't realised it was the headmaster in drag, but had had a momentary intelligence boost, turned to his two friends and whispered…

"Now THAT is hot!"

'Mione shuffled off to vomit in a corner, and dragged Ron with her (he was still tied to her waist), leaving Harry alone. He sensed someone standing behind him, and turned around. There, in a Burberry-style Mac, a tweed flat cap and a bushy moustache, stood Seamus. Harry just had time to flash a quick smile before Fumblewhore started to speak.

"Meine Damen und Herren, welcome to this most historic of occasions. This event is one of the least well known of all Hogwarts' traditions. I'll leave it up to Professor Binns to inform you on some of the history of the event…" At which everyone switched off.

Harry took the ever-convenient opportunity to quiz Seamus.

"So why does everyone hate you?"

Seamus woke up, turned to Harry and looked imploringly into his eyes. "I told you I wouldn't tell you, and I won't. Please, let it go…" He broke off to stare at someone who was walking behind Harry.

Curious, Harry followed the direction of Seamus' eyes. He saw that it was Draco who had walked past. He was the only one not in costume, as he thought that dressing as a muggle was generally not the done thing for one of his standing in society. Pouf.

"Seamus, why did you stop looking at me to stare at Draco? And why are you drooling?"

Seamus' head fell forward. Silent tears began to fall into his lap. "Great, now you're going to work it out and hate me too…" He stood up suddenly and ran out of the hall. No-one except Harry noticed, as nearly everyone was asleep, all except Harry and Hermione, who was still vomiting herself voraciously into a sea of puke in the corner. Binns was oblivious as ever.

_Work what out?_ Harry thought.

"'Mione! What would make Seamus stare at Draco and drool?"

Hermione looked up, wiped a smear of vomit from her chin, thought for a moment, then replied in her jolly-hockey-sticks accent…

"God, Harry, sometimes you're about as smart as Ron!" She insulted lamely. "Do you not hear ANY gossip? Seamus is a big fat flaming pouf and everyone hates him because of it!"

Harry turned back to the headmaster in a dress, enormous fake breasts and high heels, who had started speaking again. After spotting the obvious irony, he wondered why that would make everyone hate Seamus…homophobes.


	4. Chapter 3 Pole Dancing Party Party 2

**An apology: **OMG slash fans! I'm so sorry I haven't updated sooner…exams, imaginary dead relatives, blah, blah, blah…anyway, enjoy!

**Slash Actually**

**Chapter 3 – _Pole Dancing Party (Part(y) 2)_**

A hush descended over the sleeping crowd as Fumblewhore retook the stage, interestingly also whilst still asleep. Just before he floated through the wall, Professor Binns made a loud noise like a duck that woke everyone up.

"Well, wasn't that fascinating, folks? Let's have a big round of applause for Professor Binns!" Fumblewhore said whilst rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

A tumbleweed rolled passed. It stopped dead in its tracks to join in the riotous applause that had followed Fumblewhore's request.

"Anyway, on with the show. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce your entertainment for this evening pause for whistling and catcalls – damn, wasn't supposed to read that bit out – your TEACHERS!"

Various shuddering glances were thrown around the room as people descended into mass panic. People ran for the doors, but they were magically shut (Hagrid was leaning against them from the outside).

"_Honestly_" huffed Hermione. "Anyone who'd even glanced at the third line of the seventh paragraph of sub-section B-37f of the mysterious hidden chapter of the secret one-copy-only-in-the-whole-world edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ would have known that that would happen."

Desperate to not see what they feared most (McNognognal in a thong), students began clawing at their eyes. But it was too late. Snape had taken to the stage, in a long, slinky dress with splits both up and down to his waist. He hadn't waxed. Anywhere.

Snape wiggled over to one of the poles and struck a pose, wrapped seductively around it. McOognoogle, dressed in a similar outfit made of her usual green tartan, came from the other side of the stage and trudged to the pole opposite Snape. Finally came Trelawney, who decided to make a rather grander entrance by floating down from the ceiling, wearing nothing but a thong and some tassels on her nipples, to take her place in between the two. She hadn't waxed either.

Then the torture really began. The dancing. (**A.N.** As I'm sure your computer's screens, keyboards and anything else in their general vicinity is wonderfully valuable, I'll spare you the details so you don't throw up all over them. Whilst we wait for them to finish, here's some Muzac…ok, I can't play you Muzak over the text, but find something annoying and repetitive and listen to it for a few minutes to get the full effect. Try Greensleeves played on an electric keyboard. Right, I think they're finished now. Back to the story!)

Wading out through the ankle-deep pool of vomit that had filled the hall, there was only one thing on Harry's mind…_God, could Trelawney shimmy!_

"You boys have one track minds, I swear!" quipped the ever-hilarious Hermione. "I thought you'd at least be thinking about that Seamus just a little bit. He is a big fat flaming pouf, after all."

"Why is that so bad?"

"Eurgh, Harry, you're one too, aren't you!" Ron mused.

"Ron, don't be so disgusting, Harry wouldn't be that repugnant, would you, dear? Not that we'd mind if you were, we'd just have to have you shot…"

"It's his choice if he wants to take it up the arse, and I don't see why everyone hates him because of it!" Harry fumed. "I need to talk to him, tell him I don't hate him. See you later." He spat as an afterthought.

Turning away from his friends and wringing some of the vomit from his socks, Harry reached for his Marauder's Map. It told him Seamus was in the same cupboard from the night he had saved Harry's life.

_Ugh, why can they never hide near where I start looking?_ Harry thought as he set off.

BORING WALKING SCENE DELETED TO MAXIMISE READER ENJOYMENT

Harry gripped the cupboard handle firmly, and pulled it open. "Seamus, I want to talk to…" He was stopped in mid-sentence by what he saw…


	5. Chapter 4 The BROOMS

**Insert Title Here**

**Chapter 4 – _The BROOMS!_**

Harry gripped the cupboard handle firmly, and pulled it open. "Seamus, I want to talk to…" He was stopped in mid-sentence by what he saw…

There were BROOMS in the broom cupboard. Actual, proper, honest-to-god BROOMS. Ok, so that might not sound so spectacular, but in a school where every single cupboard was used for anything and everything other than storage, this was a major event. Harry was so taken aback that he forgot about Seamus completely.

It only took a few hours before he whole school heard the rumours about the brooms. The entire corridor had been sealed off until Dumbles had sobered up enough to deal with the situation. When he was sober enough to stand up, McGnoggles decided he was ready. He was pushed to the offending cupboard, and Snape forced his wand into his hand, before pulling the door open and running away down the corridor screaming. Girls…

Dumbles swayed back and forth giddily for a few seconds, staring blurredly at the brooms in front of him. Then he let out a loud non-erotic moan and fell flat on his face, knocking the brooms on top of him.

"THE BROOMS ARE ATTACKING THE HEADMASTER!" yelled GnMcngmcngl. "SOMEONE GET HELP!"

Filch, who was ignoring the ban on the corridor and shuffling along it depressedly, picked up the brooms and tossed them aside. Then he kicked the headmaster three times in the head and shuffled along his way.

By this point, everyone had forgotten about the brooms and gone back to sending metaphorical hate lasers out of their eyes at Seamus for being a big fat flaming pouf. Even Harry, who hadn't seen Seamus for a few days, was beginning to believe some of the hype. For example, it was widely rumoured that Seamus was having illicit affairs with Lord Voldemort's slightly-less-evil-but-still-quite-evil-nevertheless twin Barry, a rumour which many students, including Harry, took as fact. Well, when you hear something that many times…

It wasn't until three days later that Harry finally found some time to talk to Seamus. Consulting his map, he eventually found him alone by the lake. Consulting the window, he found that it was absolutely pissing it down. Re-consulting his map, he found that Seamus wasn't moving. After re-consulting the window, he concluded that Seamus was outside alone in the rain. Brilliant.

Harry decided that talking to Seamus was more important than being dry, so he fashioned a crude but natty hat and coat ensemble from the skin of some nearby first years and set off into the cliché…umm, rain.

He found Seamus standing miserably by a small orchestra pit filled with men in evening dress clutching various violin-like instruments. Harry wasn't surprised; often had he had to sit through long, tedious and above all thoroughly pointless explanations of the fabled wandering string section of the Hogwarts grounds, which appeared whenever potential romantic clichés were present. They were playing a slow, melancholic dirge, as Seamus stared depressedly into the depths of the lake, seemingly unaware of the rain that was lashing against his back.

"Seamus, hi!" Harry called over the violins, etc.

Instead of replying, Seamus turned towards Harry, grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into a passionate kiss, at which the violin men cheered up and swelled into a mass of happy slushy romance chord. They were cut short, however, when Harry pulled away, looking disgusted.

"SEAMUS! What the fuck was that!"

"But…I thought…"

"Well you thought wrong! Look, just because I don't hate you, doesn't mean I love you or anything."

"But…the string section turned up when you…and that means…"

"I guess they must just have water on the brain or something, hardly surprising with all this rain. But I'm not gay. Now come inside, you'll catch your death out here. Why are you out here anyway?"

As he was talking, he turned around and made to pull Seamus towards the school. Seamus, however, had other ideas.

"Look, just leave me here, ok? You don't want me, no-one does, so I'll just stay out here and drown to death."

He was so serious as he spoke that Harry new it would be futile to stay and argue. He just hoped Seamus didn't mean what he said about dieing…


	6. Chapter 5 The One With The Copyright

**Insert Title Here**

**Chapter 5 – _The One With The Copyright Infringements_**

Harry decided that he really didn't need this. True, he had a LOT of free time on his hands now that he had no school work to do, no classes to attend and almost a full two terms left of school, but he did _not_ have time for dealing with stupidly over-emotional big fat flaming poufs.

Nevertheless, that kiss was playing on his mind as he made his way slowly back up to the castle. Harry decided that it was a great kiss, if a little clichéd. Maybe he could just be a little bit bi-curious…

His disturbing train of thought was interrupted when he heard a loud screaming coming from the direction of the lake. He whipped around to see one large, pink, hairy, wrinkly tentacle (**A.N. **anyone who read that how I meant it to be read has a filthy mind and is going straight to the vestibule of Dante's hell where you will be pursued by insects along side Pope Celestine V. Enjoy!) disappearing below the black water. Instinctively, Harry knew that Seamus had been stolen by the Giant Squid.

Conveniently, Neville was passing at the time.

"Neville, I need some of that weed thingy that I can breathe under…wait, I learnt all the spells ever, why the fuck would I want some old weed? Thanks, Neville!" Harry called jovially and sprinted off towards the lake to rescue his future boyfriend (**A.N. **Anyone whom it hasn't yet dawned on that this story was leading there will be lead out and shot at dawn by my Auntie Dawn) from the depths of the lake.

"_Bubbleheadus Charmus"_Harry yelled, pointing his wand at his head, before jogging Baywatch-stylee into the lake, complete with only-just-there red swimsuit and enormous comedy balloon breasts flailing wildly. Sometimes the Bubblehead Charm had…unfortunate side effects.

Anyway, Harry swam violently downward for a few hundred feet, before reaching the lair of the giant squid. He found the tentacle holding Seamus and began trying to attack it to make it let go, but his temporary bust stopped his from even reaching it. In his wild flailingness, he didn't notice another of the tentacles snake surreptitiously around his waist and pull him away. Harry was stunned; he couldn't see what was happening; his cleavage was blocking his view of his waist. Confused, he continued flailing and attempting to cry out. Suddenly, he remembered he was a wizard. _Duh_, he thought to himself.

He wracked his brain and remembered learning a mysterious magical spell that could only be cast when in great peril under water. Wiggling his wand in a very complex way, he shouted "_Christineus Theus Purpleus Turtleus"_ into his bubble.

There was a blinding flash of green light from his wand, and a massive spectral being flowed slowly from the tip, and formed the vague shape of a turtle. The spectre solidified and turned purple, and there she was, saviour of millions of submerged wizards, witches and general sub-wizard/witch-magical-humanoids, Christine. The purple turtle. Who was wearing a blonde Miss-Piggy-esque wig, a flapper dress, big heavy-looking Goth boots with pink shoelaces and a big panama with a purple hat band.

Christine snapped viciously at the squid, and it released its two prisoners. Harry left Christine to tussle with the Giant Squid, and began to pull Seamus towards the surface.

The still Baywatch-ified Harry made it to the surface in only a few seconds, dragging Seamus up by his robe. He staggered to the edge of the lake, where he saw a small figure standing, waiting.

Dropping Seamus to one side, all thoughts of bi-curiousness forgotten, he walked towards the girl. It was Ginny. But not as we know her.

She was standing in a half-clamshell at the very edge of the lake, slowly gyrating her hips. She was completely nude, the moonlight glowing her pale skin a bright silver. One arm was covering her naked and ample breasts, the other holding her long red hair over her crotch. Flitwick was fluttering around her head, dressed as a cherub.

"I've been waiting for you, Harry" she cooed seductively when he drew near. She flung herself out of the shell and onto her back on the grass, legs akimbo. "Take me, Harry. I want - need to feel you inside me."

"Ginny, my dear, I would, but I'm currently Pamela Anderson and so I don't have a penis (**A.N. **any more…LOL couldn't resist, I don't mean it. Love you Pam!). Also, you're a filthy slag riddled with innumerable venereal diseases and I wouldn't touch you with a barge pole. Now close your legs, the smell of fish is attracting the grindylows."

And, at that, he turned and stalked back to see if Seamus was alright.


	7. Chapter 6 The Beginning Of A

**Insert Title Here**

**Chapter 6 – _The Beginning Of A Beautiful (Read: Horrific And Completely Unnecessary) Lesbian Sub-Plot _**

Yet another few weeks had passed before anything interesting decided to happen (**A.N. **skip November and you'll be about there). Harry and Seamus were still good friends, and Hermione was still a posh twat. Ron was still a moron; until…

"Harry, Hermione, I have some good news for you." Dumbumbles strolled casually over as the trio were sitting huddled together in one of the larger courtyards. "What the devil are you doing out here? It's freezing, come into my office." As he gestured towards the door, Harry couldn't help but notice the red string tied to his wrist. He shrugged it off and made towards the great man's office.

A few minutes later they were all sitting around a roaring fire (Fawks had chosen this convenient moment to snuff it again) and sucking quietly on sherbet lemons, which were making their noses glow yellow. Nobody was talking.

"Erm…Professor…you had some good news?" prompted Harry.

"What? Oh, yes, they've found a cure for Ron."

Hermione looked delighted. She would finally be free of this idiot! Unable to contain her excitement, she started jabbering questions incoherently at the headmaster.

"What? Who? Where? When? How? It's not killing him, is it? Oh well, can't be helped, I suppose. He had a good life. Oh, it's not? Even better. I think that…"

"MISS GRANGER!" yelled Dummywums over the myriad of questions.

"Sorry, professor."

"Thank you. The cure was only recently discovered by a Mr. Bimble Hackwitt, a dear old friend of mine, who lives in Cornwall but commutes to Mars daily in his Hillman Imp to conduct his research. Now, Ronald…" The professor turned to the previously ignored boy-idiot, who was currently poking at the new baby Fawks with a stick.

"Stop that, and drink this." He held out a small vile of puce liquid. Ron gulped it down greedily, made a face and fell over.

"RON!!!" shouted Harry, jumping to his feet.

"Ron!" shouted Hermione, a little less enthusiastically, remaining in her seat.

"Peeves!!!" shouted Moaning Myrtle orgasmically from inside Dumimmble's broom cupboard.

"Oh dear Gods NOOO!" shouted Dumbubbles when he heard the ghosts.

"Oy! What about me?!" shouted Ron indignantly from the floor.

"RON!!!" shouted everyone.

"That's right. I'm BA-ACK!" shouted Ron.

Ron was indeed back. It took just one day for things to get completely back to normal, and Hermione was already sick of it. Secretly she had always hated normal Ron, and life with him soon became unbearable for her. She had to get away…

"Right, everyone get into pairs!" called Professor R-25b jovially. _Golly gosh_, thought Hermione, _these new robot charms teachers sure are jolly brilliant_. Indeed they were; but that's not really relevant. Whilst Hermione was busy thinking this, she forgot about getting into pairs, and soon she was the only person left. Well, almost…

"Miss Granger, looks like you'll be working with Miss Parkinson…proxy authentication error – reconnect spool 32 immediately" said Professor R-25b before exploding.

"Oh look, teacher's dead. Granger, want to do something?"

Desperate to get away from Ron, Hermione agreed before she knew who was speaking. It was Pansy.

Soon, she was being lead by a painful grip on her wrist into the dungeons. It turned out "Pansy" was anything but, judging by THAT grip. Hermione couldn't help but get a little moist at being dominated like this.

"Here" grunted Pansy, pulling her down into…you guessed it…a broom cupboard.

"Uh, Pansy…there's not a lot of room…"

Pansy patted the spot between her open legs.

"Oh…okay!" Hermione pushed herself between Pansy's muscular thighs and pulled the door shut.

"Well, this is…cosy. Why did you bring me here?"

"This is my secret space. It's where I come when I need to think and…stuff…"

_Wow, she does have feelings_ thought Hermione. _Now if only she would have them for me…wait, what the dickens was that?_ Her confusion was cut short when Pansy pulled her round and kissed her passionately. Hermione was astonished, but soon began to relax and enjoy it.

Soon, anyone walking past the corridor would be baffled and slightly turned on by lesbian sex noises emitting loudly from a broom cupboard. Or, should I say, closet…


	8. Chapter 7 Of Babies and Best Friends

1**[Insert Title Here**

**Chapter 7 – **_**Of Babies and Best Friends**_

"…proxy authentication error – reconnect spool 32 immediately" said Professor R-25b before exploding.

"What the…oh, technology, who needs it?" Ron turned to leave. "Harry, you coming?" he called over his shoulder.

"Okay" Harry followed after his best friend, pausing only briefly to glance towards Hermione hurrying out of the room with…was that Pansy Parkinson?

Hermione was soon forgotten, though. When they reached the end of the corridor, they say a small crowd standing in a circle around something, jeering and shouting.

Jogging towards the group, they began to get an idea of what was going on. It was definitely some sort of scuffle…Or was it? When they drew closer, it suddenly didn't seem so violent…

Seamus and Draco were passionately and vehemently making out on the floor. The circle of people were jeering at them and shouting to stop, but they took no notice. Harry and Ron just stood and stared, transfixed by what they saw.

Later that evening, Seamus and Draco sat in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, Seamus fiddling absentmindedly with the red string tied to Draco's wrist. Hermione still wasn't back, and Harry and Ron were the only other two people in the room. Ron was glowering at the couple intently, and Harry was watching them fondly. Definitely a little bit bi-curious…

Suddenly, Ron got up and announced that he was going to bed. Harry decided to follow him. The two boys fell onto their respective beds, silent for a few seconds. Then Ron started to talk, in an unusually uncomfortable way.

"Uh…Harry…Do you…Would you…What do you think about what was happening downstairs?"

"I…uh…I don't know…I don't think it's such a bad thing…"

"Really? It's just, I don't think I do any more either."

Harry was astonished. This was RON talking! "So…what?"

"I dunno…do you wanna, maybe…"

Taking this as a sign, Harry crossed the room in two strides and clamped his lips onto Ron's. The searing fervour of their kiss burned with all the passion of a Barbara Cartland Novel, as years of built up sexual tension came thundering out.

A violent tangle of limbs soon ensued, which ended up in the boys roughly and naïvely 69-ing each other on Neville's bed. Needless to say, there was no love involved. Just a bit of fun between friends. Honest. (**A.N. **Never fear, oh fair readers. Normal sexiness will be resumed shortly. And a big smutty sex scene.)

"Harry, I think I'm lesbian pregnant."

"Good morning to you too, Hermione."

"I'm serious! Look at me, I've ballooned! I'm almost at the end of my third trimester!"

"How so?"

"Lesbian babies happed very quickly, sometimes in less than 24 hours." Hermione said, flustered.

"But you're not a lesbian." Harry pointed out dumbly.

"Yes she is!" called Pansy defensively, striding over and putting a heavy arm around her girlfriend. "And I'm the mother of her child!"

"Ooooo, I think the baby's coming!" And, sure enough, it was. Thirty seconds later, Hermione was holding…octuplets!

"Err…Hermione…aren't there rather a lot of them?" Asked Ron gently.

"Well duh, Ronald. Lesbians have litters, everyone knows that!" said Hermione tersely.

Soon, Hermione and Pansy had left Hoggy, Hoggy, Hogwarts and were shacked up on a council housing estate wearing knock-off Burberry and fake gold jewellery. But not until after the story finished, I might need them again.

Next chapter…we might actually stay slightly on plot!


End file.
